


in somnis veritas (in dreams there is truth)

by houfukuseisaku



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Gen, brotherly love. but like. overprotective brotherly love, hewwo our name is houfukuseisaku and we love to slurp angsty aus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houfukuseisaku/pseuds/houfukuseisaku
Summary: Gammon is twelve when Nyoze realizes something.In retrospect, he should have noticed it much, much earlier.
Relationships: Nyoze Octo & Gammon Octo
Kudos: 16





	in somnis veritas (in dreams there is truth)

**Author's Note:**

> who wants some more octobros angst??? (absolutely nobody) YEAH well here it is anyway!!! have a three-inches-to-the-left-of-canon au
> 
> **content warning: abusive parents, bullying, mentions of skin-carving (both consensual and not)**

Gammon is twelve when Nyoze realizes something.

In retrospect, he should have noticed it much, much earlier.

* * *

Gammon is almost six when he has his first nightmare. Nyoze doesn’t think much about it, more concerned with comforting him when he comes crying into his room. Their parents rush in soon after, and between the three of them they manage to calm Gammon down enough for him to speak.

He babbles about things Nyoze can’t quite catch. Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to bother their parents too much, so Nyoze won’t let it bother him either. Their mother draws them both into a hug, their father affectionately pats both their heads, and Nyoze reaches out to hold Gammon’s hand, giving it what he hopes is a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t worry, dear,” their mother coos, “it’s only a dream.”

“That’s right, kiddo,” their father hums, “it’s not real.”

Gammon quiets, but there are still tears in his eyes. Nyoze feels compelled to say something, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t know what to say, because he’s never had a nightmare before.

So instead he holds Gammon’s hand just a little bit tighter, not knowing what else he can do.

He feels lost.

But Gammon finally sniffles, and smiles, and nods, and says, “Okay.”

And that is enough for Nyoze.

* * *

Gammon is almost seven when he refuses to leave Nyoze’s side. Nyoze doesn’t think much about it, more concerned with comforting him when he sticks to Nyoze like glue. Their parents have to jump through a few hoops and loopholes to oblige Gammon’s sudden clinginess, but between the three of them they manage to work it out.

At school, Nyoze is given a seat next to Gammon in Gammon’s class, willingly held back a school year. He patiently endures the stares and the snickers, the prodding questions and pointed accusations. Why is an eight-year-old boy in a class for seven-year-old children?

When it becomes obvious that he won’t rise to the bait, they aim their scorn at Gammon instead. Needlessly cruel, in the way children can be when they don’t know any better. Coward, they call him, chicken, crybaby who needs his big brother to protect him.

Nyoze’s never been one to be quick to anger, but hearing all this? Makes him see red. What’s wrong with him protecting Gammon? No, more than that. What’s wrong with needing to be protected, in the first place? They’re brothers! Protecting each other is what brothers do, right?!

His anger builds, boiling and simmering like hot oil, just under his skin. Until one day, it spills over.

It takes three teachers to pull Nyoze off and away from the bully curled up on the schoolyard floor. Nyoze sticks his tongue out at the whimpering brat for good measure, before he’s dragged off to the principal’s office, Gammon quietly trailing behind him.

Nyoze doesn’t quite remember what happens after that, the red haze of anger still clouding his vision, but something must’ve changed.

Maybe it’s the way Gammon keeps mumbling apologies under his breath.

Maybe it’s the way Gammon keeps sneaking guilty glances at the purpling bruise under Nyoze’s eye.

Maybe it’s the way Gammon whispers, when he’s on the verge of sleep, head falling against Nyoze’s shoulder as their parents drive them back home,

“I knew this would happen… I saw it last night, in a dream…”

He quiets, but there are still tears trailing down his cheeks. Nyoze feels compelled to say something, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t know what to say, because he’s never had a dream before.

So instead he holds Gammon’s hand just a little bit tighter, not knowing what else he can do.

He feels lost.

And in his peripheral vision, he sees his father stiffen in his seat, his mother cover her face with her hands, and he wonders to himself.

_Is there something wrong with me?_

* * *

Gammon is almost ten when their parents decide that he’s old enough. Nyoze doesn’t think much about it, more concerned with comforting him when he confesses his fear about the family tradition.

“Hey, don’t worry about it!” Nyoze grins, trying his best to assuage Gammon’s unease. He rolls up one of his sleeves and shows off the seals etched into the skin of his arm, tracing the delicate scars with a reverent fingertip. “Mom and Dad also have them. It’s something we inherited from our ancestor, so that evil things can’t affect us!”

“Cool…” Gammon’s eyes are sparkling with awe, apprehension temporarily forgotten. His hands hover above the seals on Nyoze’s arm, close but not quite touching. They sit like that for a few more minutes before their parents call for Gammon from the other room. Nyoze encouragingly shoots Gammon a thumbs-up, waving him away.

Gammon nods, a shaky smile on his lips, before he steps outside the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Deciding to wait for his brother’s return, excited to see Gammon proudly showing off his own seals, Nyoze flops onto his bed and closes his eyes. It isn’t long before he drifts off.

It isn’t long before he’s awoken, either.

Something pulls at his arm, and Nyoze nearly falls out of bed in his rush to get up, beaming. And then that bright smile falls like lightning to the ground as he takes in the sight before him.

Gammon, sobbing, cradling his hands close to his chest. The seals, the _scars_ —bloody and jagged, nothing at all like his own carefully carved ones. Careless, sloppy… and, upon further inspection, cut deeper into his skin than Nyoze’s.

His vision clouds with wrathful red.

Nyoze doesn’t realize how tight his grip’s gotten until Gammon cries out in pain. He pulls his hands back like he’s been burned, guilt and hate burning in the pit of his stomach.

“Why?” Nyoze asks, even as he pulls Gammon into an embrace, tucking his head under his chin, patting and rubbing circles on his back.

_Why hurt him so badly?_

_Why hurt him at all?_

_Why?_

_…Why didn’t I protect him?_

_I should’ve been there._

_I should’ve been by his side._

Until Gammon’s sobs subside, until he eventually falls asleep in his brother’s arms, Gammon clings to him like a lifeline. And Nyoze hugs him back, squeezing his eyes shut.

 _Something is wrong with this family,_ he thinks, before he, too, nods off, lost in dreamless sleep.

* * *

“I’m your big brother. And I promise to protect you, no matter what.”

(In another story, Nyoze wouldn’t have devoted his life to Gammon. Yes, they would have still been close. But Nyoze wouldn’t have fallen prey to his anger. He would’ve dreamed. And Gammon would have suffered all alone.

By the time it was too late, Nyoze would have devoted his love to another. And Gammon would have fallen prey to his obsession. And they both would have fallen prey to the vessel’s enchantment.

And Gammon would have suffered all alone, burning with guilt and hate.

But that is not this story.)

* * *

Gammon is twelve when Nyoze realizes that he’s had enough.

He’s had enough of his parents treating Gammon differently than they treated him. He’s had enough of Gammon’s nightmares torturing him in the night while Nyoze himself blissfully, dreamlessly slept. He’s had enough of the bullying, the name-calling, the ostracization, all because Gammon had something they did not. A gift that they envied, a sight that they feared.

But he cannot figure out, for the life of him, an answer for all these troubles. Defending Gammon will only get him punished more severely when Nyoze isn’t there to protect him. And abandoning Gammon is out of the question.

Nyoze feels compelled to come up with a solution, but he can’t.

Instead, it’s Gammon who comes up to him one day, determination in his usually-fearful eyes.

“…Nyoze?”

“Yes?”

Gammon stares at him, and for the first time in his life, Nyoze does not feel angry.

“Let’s run away.”

He holds Gammon’s hand just a little bit tighter, giddy and excited.

And he finally laughs, and smiles, and nods, and says, “Okay.”

And that is enough for Gammon.


End file.
